


Mindless Indulgence

by UbiquitousMixie



Category: The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:26:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1820053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/pseuds/UbiquitousMixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brenda is introduced to the genre of lesbian romance novels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mindless Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imustgofirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imustgofirst/gifts).



> imustgofirst challenged me to write her a story about Brenda and Sharon on a trip together of some sort, and this is what I came up with. It’s a little silly, but hopefully it will be enjoyable and believable for whoever chooses to read it. Comments are wonderful and greatly appreciated.

The cool, salty Caribbean breeze whispered over bare skin where they lay, encouraging the hammock to sway ever-so-slightly. The brunette hummed her contentment before restless toes wiggled against her shoulder. She ignored them at first, instead focusing on the sun radiating above them, before the toes began to move again. Her firm hand grasped the foot before green eyes peered out from beneath the brim of her sunhat.

“Brenda. Darling. You were the one who insisted we share this hammock. The point is to lay here and _relax_.” She gave the toes a loving stroke before draping her arms over her head.

The blonde peeled a strand of hair from her neck and tucked it behind her ear. “Sorry. Guess I’m not very good at vacationin’.”

“You’re doing just fine. Just try to unwind and enjoy this beautiful beach.”

Brenda nestled her back against the hammock, looking out over the beach. There weren’t many people on this stretch of sand, giving them both the feeling that this was _their_ beach. A few children splashed in the turquoise water while their families looked on from their towels, and several couples were spread out in their own secluded areas. It was so peaceful that it almost didn’t seem real. Her brain nagged at her, wondering if it was a little _too_ peaceful. Quiet was never a good sign—in her experience, when things were quiet, something bad was about to happen. She idly wondered if the red-headed toddler would uncover a human hand with his little plastic shovel.

After a few minutes, Brenda sighed. “I’m not very good at shuttin’ off my brain. I keep thinkin’ about the things that might be happenin’ at work.”

“Then I think what you need is a distraction. My iPad’s in the beach bag and I loaded a bunch of books onto it before we left. There are mysteries, classics, and a few trashy romance novels. Why don’t you read for a while and let your mind be swept away by fictional characters?”

Brenda arched a skeptical eyebrow. “ _Sharon Raydor_ indulges in trashy romance novels? Are we talkin’ Harlequin, or the sort with Fabio on the cover?” She managed to extend an arm to reach the tablet with minimal disruption to the sway of the hammock.

Sharon chuckled. “Neither. These are of the lesbian variety.”

Brenda was agape. She had known, surely, that such books had existed, but she’d never read one. She laughed to herself at her own naiveté. She tapped a few icons and maneuvered well enough on the touchscreen until she found the ebook app, her jaw dropping as she located what clearly were neither mystery nor classic books. “Oh, good heavens, you weren’t kiddin’!” She scanned through the titles and added, “I never, ever took you for the type to read this kinda stuff!”

“I don’t read it all the time. In this particular genre, the books often aren’t very good, but they’re perfect for a little mindless reading. I don’t want to think too hard while I’m on vacation.” She peered out again from the bottom of the hat, scrutinizing her girlfriend. “I never took _you_ for the type to be sucked in by the allure of those books.”

Brenda merely shrugged, nonplussed. “How could I resist, knowin’ they’re one of your guilty pleasures?” She scrolled through the list of a dozen or more books. “I bet these are all terrible….and I bet they’re all about classy executives havin’ secret affairs with their assistants because they’re in the closet...or about butch plumbers drinkin’ beer by the bucket while they fix toilets and pick up feminine ladies at the bar.” She opened one at random and shouted, “Ha! This one’s about a construction worker! ‘Course it is!”

“Why don’t you just choose one and give it a chance? There’s bound to be one in there that won’t make you cringe.”

Brenda knew that she was being told in no uncertain terms to can it, and so she did. She could make this work. Maybe she’d be surprised and be swept away by a Sapphic tale as old as time. She selected another book, opting against the one with the construction worker named Chaz, and selected another book on the list.

She scanned the first page and guffawed with laughter. “Oh Lord...this one’s about an androgynous sculptor named _Rooke_ with a chip on her shoulder and a sordid past! Rooke! Ha!” She selected another book. “This one’s got a Wintyr. With a ‘y’…for heaven’s sake! Why do these books all have characters with such bizarre names, or names that are typically masculine? I don’t understand…is that a lesbian thing? Am I doin’ it wrong? Should I go by ‘Lee’ instead and change the spellin’?”

Sharon couldn’t help but chuckle. “You were expecting maybe ‘Brenda’ and ‘Sharon’?”

“Oooh,” the blonde drawled, wiggling her toes again against Sharon’s breast. “I wouldn’t mind readin’ that, provided it’s plenty dirty…”

The brunette grinned. “All right, try _Badge of Love_. I think the characters have names that aren’t shortened to male nicknames. I think it’s a femme couple too.”

“All I’m sayin’ is that not all couples are butch and femme. I mean, look at us. And I’ll just bet they don’t write bisexual characters without makin’ ‘em out to be indecisive sex fiends.”

“Trust me, not _all_ of these books are terrible.”

Brenda could tell that Sharon’s patience was wearing thin, and she did not want to completely spoil her girlfriend’s relaxing day. Knowing she was just being nitpicky, the younger woman selected the suggested book and began to read. She skimmed the first several chapters, rolling her eyes at the ridiculously cliché set up, and finally began skipping ahead, missing chapters at a time. She was wholly unsurprised that she could still follow the “plot.” The premise of the novel was of a cop with a penchant for squaring off against her male counterparts and her dashingly beautiful new partner.

She pressed her lips together and held back until she couldn’t stand it any longer. “I thought you said this book was about feminine lesbians? You didn’t mention Cagney and Lacey.”

“Have you read the character descriptions? You’re the one making the assumption that they’re butch. Not all female police officers are butch, or haven’t you noticed?”

Brenda could just make out Sharon’s smirk. “Okay, okay. Fair point.”

“What’s wrong with butch women anyway? You gripe about the lack of femme/femme stories, but there are even fewer books demonstrating relationships between butch women. Lesbian representation is stigmatized even within the LGBT community.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with butch women. I think all women are beautiful and have every right to dress however they want. I just can’t relate,” she replied defensively. “I’m not bein’ homophobic. I don’t see what’s wrong with wantin’ to read a story that reflects _my_ experience.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I was just curious about your reaction. Did I ever tell you that my first girlfriend in college was a butch woman?”

“No!”

Sharon smiled at the recollection. “Her name was Nikki. She was really very handsome. We were in the marching band together.”

Brenda smirked. “Lemme guess—she played the drums.”

Sharon rolled her eyes and nudged Brenda’s arm with her foot. “She played the clarinet, actually.”

“I stand corrected. Well, all right then. So those books speak to your experience. I just wanna read one that reflects mine.” Her eyes continued to skim, her thumb having continued its ceaseless skipping of page after page while they talked. “Oh, now _this_ is practically torn out of my own life,” she drawled sarcastically. She cleared her throat, and then began to read aloud. _“Beth averted her azure gaze, licking cherry red lips as she pondered the proclivities of her delectable partner. Was she a hot dog fan, or did she prefer tacos? Lunch_ was _just around the corner.”_ She burst into laughter. “Yup. I had just that exact talk with myself when I first wondered about you, Captain Raydor!”

Sharon shared in her girlfriend’s laughter. “I don’t remember that book being _that_ bad. If nothing else, at least they’re good for a laugh, right?”

“That’s for su—“ Brenda paused, her eyes widening. “Oh my…I don’t think I’ve ever seen the word ‘pussy’ written out so many times.”

Sharon snorted. “Brenda Leigh Johnson, are you skipping ahead to the sex scenes?”

“…Maybe.” She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Why do people use that word? It grosses me out.”

The brunette nodded, also not a fan of the word as a descriptor of her intimate areas. “I suppose that author likes it, for whatever reason. To each her own.”

“This is just…oh, it’s just the worst! _Beth spread Gloria’s legs, kneeling awestruck between them as if to pray and give ample thanks at the altar of the gods_ \--that’s downright sacrilegious!-- _Gloria let out a howl of pleasure_ \--do some women really howl during sex?-- _as Beth swiped her long tongue along the dripping length of her pussy. Gloria arched her back and ground her aching love mound against her partner’s face, searching for sweet relief. They had put their lives on the line for each other, and they were about to give so much more. Beth’s tongue swiped again at the flowing juices leaking from her sacred place…_ \--like the woman’s vagina sprung a leak or somethin’?-- _and she finally, FINALLY!, wrapped her cherry lips around the pulsating bead of pure pleasure._ ”

Brenda set down the iPad and threw her head back as she guffawed in laugher. “Oh Lord, this is just horrendous! Pussy? Love mound? Sacred place? _Pulsating bead?_ My equipment must be broken, ‘cause mine don’t pulsate.” She snorted, her abdomen aching as she laughed. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard!”

Despite how brutally her girlfriend was tearing about the books she shamefully enjoyed, Sharon could not help but participate in the laughter. It _was_ funny, and she was thankful that neither she nor Brenda indulged in the sort of dirty talk that called for such…poetry. “Not quite as good as the real thing, is it?”

A mischievous grin spread across Brenda’s face. She shifted, resting her arm on Sharon’s bare, sun-kissed legs. She stroked the length of them with her fingertips. The combination of sweat and sunscreen did nothing to detract from how erotic it was to touch her like this in public, far, far, far away from the prying eyes of their colleagues. They were on a small island where no one knew them, on no schedule, and though it had been difficult to leave her work behind, Brenda was enjoying herself immensely. It didn’t hurt that Sharon Raydor looked so damn good in her simple navy blue bikini.

Confirming that the beach surrounding them was relatively secluded, Brenda walked her fingers higher along Sharon’s inner thigh.

“You’re cruel,” Sharon groaned. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of plenty things we could do to each other right now…” She dragged the tip of her middle finger along the center of Sharon’s swimsuit bottoms.

“We’re on a _public_ beach, Brenda Leigh. We have a private, luxurious cabana we can indulge in to our hearts’ content, but we’re not doing that here.”

“Why not?” Brenda asked with a pout.

“There are children a few yards away,” Sharon responded, removing Brenda’s roving fingers from between her legs. “Just a few more hours and I’ll be at your mercy.”

Brenda reluctantly refrained from asking if they could leave early. She could be patient for a few more hours—Sharon would have the relaxing day she wanted, and Brenda would still get to have exactly what she wanted that evening. It was difficult to keep her hands to herself when Sharon painted such an appealing picture, and so she took up the iPad once more.

She gave the book a final chance, skimming through flowery descriptions of Beth and Gloria struggling to keep their hands to themselves at the office. In one particularly painful paragraph, Beth snuck a grope at Gloria’s “luscious love pillows” in the middle of a crowded bullpen. With that, Brenda exited the book before she gave in to the urge to throw the book (and, subsequently, Sharon’s iPad) across the beach. She gave an exaggerated huff. “I could write a better book than this nonsense. That woman has clearly never taken an English class or done research about the police department. Honestly, what self-respecting police officers are gonna fool around in their office?” When Sharon snorted, Brenda stopped her tirade. “What’s so funny? Don’t tell me you’d actually be willin’ to fool around in the Murder Room.”

“Absolutely not—not even in my office.” Sharon grinned, shifting her hat so that her face was no longer covered. “I’m just amused by the idea of you sitting down long enough to write a page, much less an entire book.” 

Brenda’s brown eyes flashed and she pursed her lips. “Fine then. Challenge accepted.”

Sharon said nothing, watching in bemusement as Brenda poked her finger around the screen of the tablet. The blonde drew up one shapely leg, resting her foot against the hammock, and propped the iPad against her thigh before she began tapping away in earnest. Sharon closed her eyes, a smile still playing at her lips. She could not imagine Brenda Leigh Johnson dabbling in any sort of creative writing, at least not like Sharon had in college.

Her sun-induced lethargy made her feel drugged and she gave in to it, dozing off and dreaming of Brenda hunting and pecking at a typewriter in the middle of a library, pencils stuck in her hair. Sometime later Sharon awoke to feel the rustle of the hammock as Brenda carefully extricated herself. Green eyes blinked lazily as they watched the blonde reach for the bottle of sunscreen and squirt some onto her fingers.

“Sun’s moved.” Brenda smiled, rubbing the lotion into Sharon’s shoulder. “You’re getting’ a bit pink there.” Sharon smiled at her girlfriend’s thoughtfulness and thanked her. “I’m goin’ for a swim, unless you wanna join me?”

Sharon grinned, stretching her body cat-like on the hammock. “Maybe later. You go and enjoy yourself.”

Brenda Leigh moved aside Sharon’s floppy hat and kissed her gently before heading toward the water. Sharon watched her go, appreciatively eyeing the slender form of the woman she loved clad only in a small pink bikini. Perhaps she would have to rethink waiting hours before suggesting they return to their cabana…

The hammock swayed more easily now without Brenda’s added weight, and as Sharon settled her body against the ropes, she felt the press of the iPad against her hip where Brenda had left it. A strong pull of curiosity overtook her then, and she could not help herself from activating the screen and finding the document Brenda had been working on. She began to read.

_Leigh’s attraction toward the leggy brunette was undeniable—try as she might, she felt a pull toward the woman that she had never felt before. At night, lying beside her kind, sweet husband, Leigh lay awake, haunted by the day’s interactions with Sherry that morphed into forbidden fantasies. Those fantasies were so vivid, so shocking, that Leigh was sure even a seasoned sex worker would blush to hear them._

_Sherry no longer felt like an adversary, but she no longer felt like a friend, either. What she felt like was inevitability—whether Leigh was ready or not, Sherry was her future, and Leigh did not wish to run from it as she would have in the past. All she wanted was to experience how soft Sherry’s lips might be and caress her fingers along the length of those endless legs. Leigh had never wanted anyone the way she wanted Sherry, and she couldn’t wait to have her._

Sharon’s eyebrows rose. This was…good. She read as much as Brenda had written, ignoring the typos as she absorbed herself in the love story of Leigh and Sherry—a very familiar love story. So absorbed was she that Sharon did not notice Brenda’s approach until cold, salty water dripped onto her shoulder.

“I see you found my masterpiece,” Brenda drawled. “You’re cheatin’ though. It’s not very good and it’s not finished yet. I’ve got about three hundred more pages to go, give or take a few volumes.”

Sharon chuckled, wrapping an arm around Brenda’s wet thighs. She pulled herself closer to her girlfriend and nipped playfully at her hip. “I love it so far.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Not at all. Maybe you’ll be a chief investigator by day and a romance novelist by night.”

Brenda snickered. “This thing will never see the light of day.”

“Good – you’d need a damn good penname if you’re going to write about us.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Any resemblance to real persons is entirely coincidental.”

Sharon laughed and nipped at her pelvis again. “You left off just as it was getting to the good part,” she said, remembering the heat that had flushed her cheeks as she read about Leigh and Sherry’s first kiss in the parking garage.

“Why d’you think I needed that swim?” Brenda traced a lazy pattern of damp circles on Sharon’s bare stomach, giving a suggestive wink.

“What do you say we head back to our room and you show me just what happens next?”

Brenda’s lips broke into a wide smile. “Are you gonna let me plunder your dripping pus—“

Sharon’s fingers covered her wordsmith’s mouth before she could finish. “No, but I _am_ going to let you do all of those things in Leigh’s fantasy, starting with what they did in the shower.”

\---


End file.
